Surveyor
by Aitrus5
Summary: Gehn muses on his past as he watches Catherine from afar.


Surveyor.   
  
I settle into my comfortable throne and stare into the depths of the lake in front of me. A sense   
of power courses through me, like a book waiting to be written. I imagine the lake as the void of space, which will one day be filled with millions of worlds that the D'ni will rule. But for now, I merely watch my whark at play. I pull the left lever and the eye settles down in front of me. I press the pentagonal button.   
  
Ah, Catherine.   
  
At last...you are mine once more. Imprisoned in the very tree you once played under as a child.   
  
It seems that whether they be of my blood, or of my pen...my children seek to...to meddle.   
  
I do not know why you have come. Not yet.   
  
But I will.   
  
It is just a matter of time.   
  
Foolish boy.   
  
I have waited 30 years. 30 long, grueling, wretched years. Ruling a hoard of savages with nothing else on their minds but their next meal and whether the rain will come soon.   
  
I watch you, Catherine. Pacing back and forth...rolling your hands. Tossing your hair back over and over   
like you used to when you were nervous.   
  
You should be nervous, Catherine. My wharks are hungry.   
  
Oh, they're well fed, of course. The Moiety see to that.   
  
You've paced that railing a hundred times now, Catherine. It will be same railing a hundred times more.   
  
No one is going to save you. No rebels to give orders too, no subjects to turn against me.   
  
You are alone.   
  
My son is alone. He must be frantic with worry. Panicking in fear. It pleases me greatly.   
  
You are as beautiful as ever, Catherine, but I will not let that blind me again.   
  
You stare at the eye, yet I see no fear in yours. But I saw no hint of betrayal in them as well.   
  
But I see your fear everytime you cry out in your fits of sleep. I see it everytime you jerk your head around, thinking you hear the cries of rescuers. Everytime your hands clench convulsively.   
  
So, the Savior is afraid.   
  
I wonder what the Moiety would think if they could see her now? Would they see their Savior, their goddess who 'defeated' me all those years ago? The one of their own who would lead them to their fate?   
  
Or as my eye sees her in true form...helpless. Weak.   
  
Afraid.   
  
I know she did not come here willingly. Something must have happened to make her come here. Wherever the Fissure leads, wherever she linked too, there were others.   
  
And which of those betrayed her, I wonder?   
  
I do hope she felt the same feelings I did.   
  
I am elated you are here, Catherine. You are mine again. Perhaps you will yet bear me sons and daughters, heirs to the newly restored empire of D'ni.   
  
And soon, the Betrayer will be coming.   
  
I wonder what he will look like?   
  
He was but a boy 30 years ago. Will he have a beard on his chin? Taller than myself even?   
  
What will I feel, when I see Atrus again?   
  
Rage, at the one who tried, but merely delayed his own kind from regaining godhood?   
  
Hate, at the one who imprisoned me on this backwater Age for thirty of the lonliest years of my existence?   
  
Despair at the simple fact that my son betrayed me?   
  
Bitterness, certainly.   
  
Forgivness, never.   
  
Every time I feed the Great Whark, Catherine, every time a rebel's screams echo in my ears, I imagine it is Atrus.   
  
Ungratefull, meddling boy.   
  
Intelligence enough to yet match my own...and yet so flawed it was a wonder he had been born of the D'ni.   
  
It was my mother's fault. Like her namesake, the stories she told painted a false picture of life. It is hard, cruel, and intolerant of weakness. Much like the cleft I lived in when I was young. You see, Catherine, I rescued Atrus from it in a moment of weakness. I simply could not bear having no one to share my triumphs with. And I have paid for that moment for 30 years....   
  
I noted as our rapport grew, Keta lived in him. As willful as he was, the boy had admirable traits that I sometimes lack. Patience. Understanding. Inquisitivness. A proper wonder of the D'ni that Keta shared and held in awe.   
  
And obedience too, once. Again, my mother's doing.   
  
Everything leads back to her.   
  
No one in any Age wants the D'ni empire back more than I. I would give up my life, my very existence in   
an instant if it would mean she had never found the cleft in the ground that eventually led her to my father's arms.   
  
Led D'ni to it's doom.   
  
She gave me up...   
  
You sleep now, Catherine. Your back to my eye. I have sat here long enough. It is all in the past.   
  
Like the D'ni, dead, but not forgotten. Not while I live. While I can still Write.   
  
You are the key, Catherine. You closed the link when you trapped me here. You will help me open it once   
more.   
  
And then....to deal with Atrus.   
  
Can you hear my thoughts, Atrus? Wherever you are?   
  
I hope so.   
  
Catherine is here. Come to me, Atrus. Come see how I have 'played' with my creations. Come see the misery you've wrought.   
  
Come see the Father who failed you. And please, don't forget.   
  
I'll be watching.   
  
  
  
The End. 


End file.
